House of Fire
by Evenstar Elanor
Summary: The House of Fëanora noble house, a cursed house, a house that will live beyond the breaking of the world. What drove them to the infamous deeds they did? The one left behind can tell, for she was also inthe House of Fire...


A/N: My biology class seems to inspire everything except biology!! Yes, this is included. It's a rather short piece, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Maglor is mine, remember, and Maedhros is Miriel's! Please review!

House of Fire

Seven. I gave him seven. Seven beautiful sons. No other family ever had so many, was so joyous, so blessed. Ha. What fool would consider my family blessed?

I can see each of them at birth; so small, so beautiful, so innocent and untainted. Yet the fire within, each in his own way, could be felt even then. How I clutched them to my breast and wished they could stay so. My husband's eyes burnt with joy upon each of their birth, and that fire that once attracted me to him now frightened me, though I refused to show it. He could not wait to take you, my little boys, into his forge, to learn his every craft and skill, to cast in you his iron and strike and mold the fire within you; the fire that frightened me, that haunts me still.

My strong, responsible Maedhros--firstborn, you were the shield of your brothers. Everyone showered you with compliments, each deserved, and some even said you were the best of your brothers. Yet you never believed so, and you cared for them. You were known as sensible, responsible, reasonable, yet that fire you could not escape, when your father spoke those terrible words. It burned in you, against all your cool reasoning, and you did not smother the blaze, nay, you allowed it to lead you, to my anguish, away from me, from your home, into danger and griefs unknown.

Little artist, I heard your song whilst you were in the womb, and still I hear you, Maglor, my gentle son, in my dreams, your sweet voice lilting me to bliss I have not known in ages of Men. As you reached your manhood, I was relieved to see that the fire that flows in the veins of us all, yes, I do not forget that I am to blame as well, did not seem to surface within you. Yet the one thing that made you so loved, your song, was the one that betrayed it within you. That glow in your eyes when you sang, creating pieces more beautiful than your father's gems, blazed brighter than they did when the light of Laurelin caught upon them.

My next three were not so gentle as you, for the fire in them was evident. Celegorm, your fiery words began in childhood, stirring the hearts of those who listened, sometimes wisely, more often into folly. You could even overcome your father in those many passionate arguments you had, though in the end, you followed his footsteps. Always beside you, a dark face to match a dark mood, ai, Caranthir, yours was the dark embers of the shadowy night, when darkness veils all. Even before Arda Hastaina, you never saw the light, nay, Telperion and Laurelin did not reach you; then why did those wretched jewels afflict you so?

I fought with your father for you, Curufin. I begged him not to take you into the forge so young, but he did not listen. In you he saw the perfect metal to mold, a jewel to shape, and he forged you so into his likeness that even the maniacal glow of his eyes hid in yours. You knew only the fires of the forge, the raw heat and power of it, and you cast your will upon those around you, and those you hunted. You were a great smith, this all know, but your true love lay in the woods, the hunt. You longed for the adventure, the hunt, of the lands beyond the Sea, yet did they keep you the hunter?

These two, my little babes, they, with their light-hearted glow, accompanied you on those long hunts. Yet even their merry demeanor did not make them loved, for the stain on the House of Fëanor was too great to overcome. Ah, Amrod, Amras, identical in mood and face, and never apart, what drove you, last of all my ill-fated sons, take that cursed Oath? Was it your brothers? Was it he? That man I loved, the one whose name is cursed, along with you, his sons? Even my own father cannot restrain himself from uttering foul curses against your name. Did you plunge yourselves into hardships and despair on your own accord? I know what it was, my beloved twins, that abominable fire, that wretched flame that lives within us all, that drives us when all else fails, the light when all others go out. The blood that bonds us is stronger than all other forces, and that inferno drove you to perform unspeakable acts, things that you, gentle hearts, would never have dreamt of.

Countless tales have spread over the Sundering Sea, along with the thrashing waves that fall upon Alqualondë, her griefs still fresh, of your misdeeds and cruelties after the slaughter of the swans. I turn my face away, though I let no emotion come through the steel façade, yes my sons, I can craft metal as well, when I hear tale of this news, for I cannot, will not believe that my children, the fruit of my womb, could have done these deeds. I cannot see a blood-drenched sword where a lyre should be, nor can the murderous light appear in the bright eyes of my last two. My firstborn is incapable of cruelty, or carelessness, yet his deeds show it otherwise. Did you not learn your lesson when the swans colored the sea crimson? The Hidden Caves and beaches of Sirion show otherwise.

Yet I do not, cannot blame you, my loves. I cannot blame those who merely carried out the seeds that I planted. They should not spit upon your names, curse your existences, nay, that fate should befall me. I brought you forth into this world, and though it would be the greatest of all sins, greater than all your crimes, to have smothered the flames blazing within you, I did not, like the wind, direct their courses. Perhaps, if the fire within me had not been so great as well, along with my pride, you would not have fallen. I, as your mother, did not nurture and soothe the fire; I fanned the flames.

When they look into the sky, seeing the light of Earendil amongst Elbereth's gems, let them think of Fëanor. Let his fiery Oath sear their hearts, as they see his sons swearing it with him. Let them remember the deeds of the Seven. Let my husband and sons live in infamy, yet do not let them be cursed. Instead, curse me, Nerdanel the Guilty, for it was I who alone, had not the courage to take responsibility of what I brought forth.

The House of Fëanor, a noble house, a cursed house—a house of Fire.

Finis

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! I know many might not agree with my characterization of Caranthir. I don't agree with it myself, but I did it for the sake of the theme of the story. Remember, Maglor is mine. Please review! My first time doing anything that concerns Nerdanel...


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